Yes I am about to write something emotionally charged. I can not sit on how this feels.
I had a lunch meeting with both my coaches and sports medicine enforcer yesterday… and I just shut down. I’ve been injured before. I’ve spent months on crutches. I’ve undergone surgery. This is nothing new… but just as hard. I did not contribute much to the conversation between Jonne, Patrick, and Karen. I nodded my head. I picked at my nails. They talked about when I could start skiing again. About progressing slowly. I thought about all the time I’ve already lost. The workouts continually modified. “How behind will this put me?!?!” They talked about what I could physically manage. How rehab was going. They focused on the plan, the future, the big picture. I focused on the overwhelming knot threatening to close up my throat. As I choked back my frustration tears began to stream slowly down my cheeks.
All I could think, “All I want to do is ski….please let me ski?” In the last 8 weeks I’ve skied maybe a dozen times.
Here I sat. Nearly blubbering. Surrounded by people who care about me. People who have only what’s best for me in mind. Mindful of my season. Mindful of my career. And all I could do is stare at the table in front of my face. The contrast between the mature adult conversation around me and my state was clear. I clearly needed to run away. Once excused I did just that.
So I did what I do best. I threw on my running shoes and hit the trails. I ran angry. I needed to express myself somehow… and I found it somewhere between the mud and the leaves.